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Ascal Ar'gith
History Conception Even in a world devoid of magic, the cults of the gods of old still continued to vie for influence across the globe. One such cult was that of Father Skinsaw within the city of Detroit. For many years the murderous sons and daughters of the cult of Norgorber scattered throughout the city had searched for hidden signs and divination's that their God may have left behind in the land of America with little luck. Their actions would account for a significant portion of the cities already high crime rate and would catch the attention of the local authorities that would lead to a climax May 3rd. A final dark ceremony was held by the cult in an effort to make contact with the long quiet voice of their lord; at the stroke of midnight, a woman who had been in her final months of pregnancy was sacrificed in the name of their dark lord and for the briefest of moments a purple light illuminated from her body, yet before the cultists could reap the supposed rewards from the dying woman's body the Detroit Police stormed the warehouse, having long since tracked the nefarious group from all of it's other criminal activity. A skirmish broke out between the two that the authorities ultimately one the day over. The woman, now delirious in her death throes was rushed to the hospital and although she was able to make it in time, the toll of birth and the hysteria that she had now seemed to under proved too much for her and after giving birth to a quiet baby boy with silvery locks, and a peculiar birth mark under his left eye, she would die. Efforts to find the father were fruitless, likely killed by the cult, or worse. After a short investigation to make sure the child was normal and not touched by the darkness the cult had tried to bring into the world he would be put in an Orphanage and the events of the summer of 2973 would pass into memory. Ar'gith Orphanage The Ar'gith Home & Kinder'Garden for Lost Children was one of many spread across the world with a long history said to stretch back to the golden age of magic, whether or not this was true was a fact lost to time. As he arrived as a babe to the orphanage within Detroit he was given the name 'Ascal' and until a suitable family would find him, like all the other orphans within the home his family name would be 'Ar'gith'. The boy's early life was relatively quiet, being gifted with a wisdom that seemed to belly his age made his education within the orphanage simple. The orphanage raised children all the way to the age of adulthood giving them the choice to be placed on the list for adoption or pursue a life on their own, a tradition that seemed to stretch back to the founding of the Orphanage some hundreds of years ago. As a person with his own aspirations and some shame in the strange birthmark he'd been born with he pursued the latter. Much of his teenage years were spent on the internet, doing odd jobs in different guises and personas that he'd developed to work several jobs at once or gather information and data that he could use to gain even more of the same. Though there were moments in his life that he thought were strange, accepting a job only for the sake of finding out the client's favorite meal, trading two hundred dollars worth of jewelry for a book on old age alchemy, strange occurrences or feelings would at some points was over him and though this search for the occult was very brief it left a lasting impact on him. It was during one of these 'stints' he noticed he was being followed. A normal teenager would have run immediately, but being in the mindset that he was, he let the tail follow him through the streets, gathering the details of his stalkers attire without their knowledge was easy and when he did he just as easily lost the tail. Feeling satisfied with the work he'd done for the day he retired to the orphanage returning to his regular identity. The date was May 2nd, one day from his eighteenth birthday. The Reaper of Reputation On the day of his eighteenth birthday, he had finally purchased the vehicle he had saved up for a solar-powered electric van that could double as a home. It was not a sporty vehicle by any means, meant more for practicality than style but to him, that was all he needed. He said his good byes to the people that had raised him all these years and proceeded to clearing out his room to make way for the next orphan that might take his place, but as he was packing his things to leave find an apartment to stay in he received a package addressed to him directly. On the inside of the envelope was a key with an address in the countryside of the city, the contents of the letter were short: 'Happy Birthday my son.' A feeling of dread washed over him as he read the letter. He had never looked for his parents, the affection and guidance the orphanage members had given him showed long ago who his family was, which is exactly why he kept his last name. But it would be lie to say that a part of him didn't wonder, that wanted to know at any cost, that dread that picked at his psyche was washed away by an eerie calm. He got in his car and a low quiet voice in his ear seemed to egg him on, one that at first he didn't notice. It's reassurance only grew louder and louder as he continued to the address further from the center of Detroit. He was lost, lost in mind and spirit, something else had taken over now, and he...it...would not be stopped. When he arrived at the gates of the estate he saw a lonely modern villa a mile down the drive way. The voice, the pressure that egged him on was all but silent. Yet even still he found himself driving down towards the modern building ahead. His heart thumped in his chest as he approached the quiet gray structure, despite it’s futuristic look, the air here had a sense of mystery too it, perhaps that is what drew him towards the front door. He knocked, but after what seemed like minutes of waiting he reached into his pocket, he let out a quiet gulp as he placed the key into the front door of the building. Inside was a waiting set of estate hands who greeted him with a quiet stare. At first he was startled, and then unsettled, yet before he could ask any questions one of them, a butler in a simple black tuxedo bowed and beckoned him to follow. He wanted to query him, to pry the questions from the strangely young face of the man, but the way the butler moved away left a lingering sense of doom; so he followed. They walked for some time, the crisscrossing hallways and stairwells would have left anyone else dizzy, but years of experience in the arts of urban subterfuge left him capable enough to navigate the maze-like structure even at the butler’s absurd pace. It did not take long for the two of them to find themselves in front of a simple black door. The butler bowed, gesturing for Ascal to proceed, and then made his way to leave. The idea of fate, had not often gone through the young mans mind. Yet here, standing before this shadowy threshold, his heart pounded in his chest. Still he reached for the door, and as his hand touch the icy door knob a shiver ran up his arm and into his spine, the beating of his chest was half again as fast, and with one final push he crossed the black passageway into the room cloaked in darkness. At it’s center was a simple computer monitor, it’s screen was black, but text had begun to scroll across it as he entered: “My son, you have done well to make it this far. Our church has dwindled in these dark times, and I now task you to lead this chapel to greatness. Do as you see fit, the potential lies within you. Though I will leave you the gift of this estate and some of it’s accouterments I know you will see through my plans in time. Your Father” When he had finished reading, the computer simply fell apart, leaving a glowing mess of purple junk behind. Ascal reached for the light, and as he did, something just...clicked. An amalgamation of computer chips and glass rose up to his hand, glowing, alive with light. He touched it, connected with it, immediately a surge of knowledge, lore and wisdom passed through him, and something more: Magic. White Tux The strange spirit creature hid itself in the bag he was carrying and dimmed it’s glow instinctively knowing his intentions, yet he didn’t question it. When Ascal exited the room the door had gone and the ‘butler’ that led him here with it. Making his way back through the winding corridors of the estate he (though now somewhat exhausted) found the other servants right where he’d left them at the houses foyer. The current state of affairs would not do so he questioned them, a strange feeling of authority rising within him after he formed his bond with the ‘spirit’. His interrogation was and oddity. The ‘staff’ on the estate all seemed incredibly loyal, but when he questioned them they had no knowledge of his ‘father’ or the ‘butler’ but when queried about the ‘chapel’ they simply looked around insisting they were within it. The ‘staff’ were loyal, they were loyal, and yet he couldn’t help but wonder….were they ‘hiding’ something? What was this plan? There was a haze spread around this place….no...a web...a strange game was at play, where would he fit? Would building up this ‘chapel’ line up with his goals? No, he would make it line up with his goals. He was given a ‘gift’ and he would use it. An ‘Organization’ he would start one. However… an ‘organization’ there was a problem in this. It would require the trust of other competent individuals, but the prospect of recruiting people to join his...’chapel’ would very likely lead to exposure, or worse in some cases, ridicule. Besides, gathering people was something he didn’t have the natural knack for. Yet ’Field Agents’ were a must. Infiltration and investigation are a necessity when it comes to gathering information. He was left with a wealth of knowledge but everything was mundane, books on general knowledge, spy stories, the psychology of the human mind, acting. Was this a part of the ‘plan’? His first few months were spent in the quiet study he’d inherited, reading through small library. His problem was he needed people, so...if he couldn’t recruit them, he would simply...make them. An act. He had already taken up aliases before when finding a job, why should this be any different? The act had to be real, ‘sincerity’ would take time to develop, so he studied, and practiced. Years would pass as he cultivated this ‘technique’, simple emotional supression at first, yet this would develop itself into a myriad of different ‘personas’. He had found his army, even if it was an army of one, it would do. The Return of Magic When you’re watching the news to find the current political environment so that you can sell digital currency, you don’t ever expect to see an alleged crazy person jump off a sign in Times Square. With the prospect of magic possibly returning, he never really had a choice, but to investigate. And a certain college student in a sailor uniform showed up in new york a few days later in a McRickies. Appearance Ascal /Ostrum The ‘main personas’ of the multitude. Ascal is the original, a young man with white hair and purple eyes. This persona is almost never found outside of Detroit, a White Tuxedo with accentuated purple accents and a very rich looking ear piece and tablet is the center piece of his design. ‘The Boss’ Ostrum would be the shadow, to Ascal’s organizational face. Black And White is his normal form of attire, and he wears a jesters mask with the image of a black and white face. This persona can be normally seen in any urban environment, but usually shady areas such as underground bars or chatrooms. ‘The Hacker’ Ronald The picturesque image of a college student in a sailors uniform. With black hair and a normally sullen or depressed face. Always carries around a briefcase which he guards with his life. ‘The Courier’ Tony The typical ‘Jersey Shore’ Italian gangster, normally wears a detective trench coat with oily slick backed hair. Carries a hidden gun, a desert eagle. Always wears a wife beater under any clothing he has and speaks with a terrible boston accent. ‘The Muscle’ Father Levi Another relatively hidden persona, this one is a dark skinned human with a white beard and priest’s dress. Normally deals with back water medical deals, or private sermons such as weddings, impromptu blessings and confessions. Normally seen with glasses, a hat, and a journal. ‘The Confidant’ Preś The most out-going of all the personalities, normally the first one to arrive on the scene of any investigative mission. A blonde half-elf with a nose-ring and chain that hooks onto an earring and a customized Japanese school uniform. ‘The Scout’ Personalities Ascal /Ostrum Astrum: Patient, Adaptive, Ambitious Likes – Orphans & Misfits, Internet, Secrecy Dislikes – Annoying Adventurers, Long Drives, Reckless Behavior Ostrum: Cold, Methodical, Focused Likes – Japanese, Tech, Planning Dislikes – Reckless Behavior, English, Annoying Adventurers Ronald Aloof, Cautious, Teary Likes – Dessert, Being Safe, Money Dislikes – Bitter Things, Gangsters, Confrontation Tony Brash, Tough, Intuitive Likes – Pasta, Sunglasses, Car Dislikes - Internet Punks, Car Damage, Cheapskates Father Levi Faith, Scribing, Truth Likes – Proselytizing, Healing, Hearing Confessions Dislikes – Faithlessness, Senseless Murder, Meat Preś Eccentric, Foreign, Intuitive Likes – Drawing, Music, Dance Dislikes – Ugly Things, Slippery Surfaces, Fire Engine Sounds Contacts Altos – Good Hired Gun Lord Blackfrost – Affluent New York Contact, retired too his Manor in Central Park Alyssa – Potential Mercenary, gone off the grid. Susumu - Hidden Guard/Assassin Enemies Bots Aspirations Like a dragon hoarding gold, Ascal inspires only to spread his grasp of knowledge across the world and internet alike through any means necessary. Has some curiosity as to what the ‘plan’ of his Father is but focuses on his own goal first. Category:Modernstomia Player Characters